


Stating the Obvious

by Scientia_Fantasia



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Gen, Kirk/Spock if you squint real hard, POV Spock, Spock's getting there okay he just needs time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-29
Updated: 2016-08-29
Packaged: 2018-08-11 20:57:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7907434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scientia_Fantasia/pseuds/Scientia_Fantasia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some early scenes from Into Darkness from Spock's POV--the first scene straight (so to speak), the second heavily modified. Spock gets pretty irritated that people keep treating him like a child when he doesn't understand human social interactions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stating the Obvious

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: Spock lecture. It's long. Prepare yourself.
> 
> P.S. Sorry if you don't have like complete knowledge of these two scenes, I sort of cut a bit out in the interests of not just rewriting what was already in the movie. I hope they're understandable regardless ??

“ ‘Uneventful.‘ ”

“Admiral?”

“It’s the way you described the survey of Nibiru in your captain’s log.”

Spock’s carefully schooled expression slipped as he all at once realized his miscalculation. He set his gaze on Captain Kirk for a moment as Admiral Pike leveled a look at them over his desk, steady tone of conversation betraying nothing of what was sure to soon end in chastisement. The tone did not last long, as Kirk then inexplicably turned his irritated accusations towards _Spock_.

“I incorrectly assumed that you would be truthful in your captain’s log,” he defended, at a complete loss to explain his Captain’s temper—he had simply followed regulation, a practice which Kirk should have been aware of, even if not inclined to subscribe to himself. Spock could not envision why the blame should lie with him in this incidence, especially considering he had explicitly opposed the actions taken in the first place.

Despite his misunderstanding—and despite the highly offensive and demeaning persistence of his Captain in referring to him with derogatory, xenophobic epithets—he still leapt to defend their mission, and thereby Kirk, against the logic in the Admiral’s argument.

For little loyalty in return, it seemed.

“You’re dismissed, Commander.”

Spock’s eyebrows drew together as he attempted to ascertain the fault in his conduct. Failing to do so, he turned to his Captain, seeking similar support—

And was not even offered acknowledgement.

Despite many human misconceptions, he _was_ able to identify the emotions that the situation evoked in himself. Notably; confusion, irritation slipping to anger, betrayal, and most of all, shame. He was not so insecure that he could not take admonishment with grace, but the fact that he was being dismissed for something which he did not understand, and worse, was not being explained to him despite the ease with which it could be, as if he were a child and not a Starfleet Commander worthy of respect and, if necessary, patience—

The fact that he could experience these emotions did not mean he allowed them to control his actions. He took his leave obediently, and if his posture was stiffer than usual, he had doubt that any humans would note this fact. They were, after all, characteristically unobservant.

***

The sting of the dismissal had not entirely dissipated when he next got a chance to discuss the topic with his Captain, approaching him despite his quickened pace across the lobby.

“Captain—”

“Not anymore, Spock. First Officer.”

His posture betrayed what his words did not. Kirk was not given to sulking, but neither was he given to an overly formal stance, especially when the current company did not call for it. And Spock had been made explicitly aware that Kirk did not consider his company worthy of formality.

He was upset, then, at the punishment given to him, and was concealing it in a particularly Vulcan way. Behind uncharacteristic propriety.

“It is fortunate that the consequences were not more severe,” Spock said, attempting to comfort him. Given his…former Captain’s aptitude, he had no doubt that the demotion would not last for longer than a year—a year in which could be learned many valuable lessons.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

The side of Spock’s mouth twitched upwards; a tic that he had long since attributed to irritation. Had his attention not been focused elsewhere, the fact that he could not suppress that response would have been grounds for a compounding of that emotion.

“It was never my intention—“

“I saved your _life_ , Spock,” his not-Captain interrupted, finally turning to meet his eyes. “And thanks to your report, I lost my ship.”

The lift opened, and Kirk exited without the usual polite regard—

Spock strode after him into the corridor and grabbed his arm, effortlessly stopping and turning him around to meet his eyes. “Had you informed me of your intentions to conceal our activities in your captain’s log, I would not have written a report,” he snapped, on the tails of the emotional impulse that led him to stop Kirk in the first place. He struggled for the barest moment with whether he should tamp down his outburst, as it was decidedly unvulcan—but as previous attempts at getting through to Kirk had failed, he determined swiftly that this approach was the next logical option. “I acknowledge your emotions surrounding the loss of your ship, but I will not allow you to use them as an excuse to speak to me in this manner. I attempted to make it clear that I regretted my actions when I acknowledged that I had made a mistake in my assumptions. If it was not clear, then I will make it so: I am sorry. My miscalculation has cost you the command of your ship, a position I am well aware you value greatly. However, I ask for your acknowledgement in return that I am not the sole perpetrator in which fault lies. I believe I speak accurately when I say that your behavior is often unpredictable, even by human standards, while I attempt a logical consistency in my behavior at all times. I made an error in predicting your actions—as you similarly made an error in predicting mine. It is a simple matter, even for a human, to conclude from my previous behavior that I would follow proper procedure and submit a report detailing our misson on Nibiru. It would be similarly simple to request that I do not. It follows that, even in the single element of my report, which is not the action upon which the consequences lie, we are both equally at fault.”

Kirk’s facial muscles pulled at his features in many small ways that indicated a mix of emotions rather than a single dominant one. Spock found this preferable to the contained passivity that only meant his ex-Captain was concealing anger. He took a breath and opened his mouth to respond—

“Furthermore,” Spock continued, dropping his hand from Kirk’s arm. As long as he was continuing his emotional transgressions, he would not deny himself the small pleasure of soundly interrupting; something which he knew brought Kirk no small measure of irritation. “I find this situation not to be a singular incidence, but rather a continuation of a pattern I have observed since I began living primarily among humans. It is a fact—and one that I would think to be obvious, but often seems to not occur to humans—that I am alien to your planet and its customs. The portion of my genetics which are human in origin do not allow me any innate understanding of your practices—practices which include verbal intonation, facial expression, and inference from such data, which requires knowledge of social rules which I am not sure even you are consciously aware of. I recognize that my lack of understanding on such subjects is comparable to that of a human child, and may, in fact, be lacking to those of a child who was born on this planet and raised in its societies. However, I will state the obvious, which seems often to be the required course of action in order for humans to reach full understanding of my arguments; I am not a child. I do not lack knowledge of abstract societal concepts, even those uniquely present in Earth culture. I am simply unaware of the myriad of ways in which they are expressed, a deficit which could quickly come to be repaired if humans were willing to take the insignificant amount of required time to explain these expressions to me rather than treating me as if I do not have the capacity to understand. I find this treatment—frustrating, and would prefer it not to continue. I ask that you, Commander, not continue it.”

Kirk stared at him now, face still, and devoid of conflicting emotions. Then he let out a breath, his posture relaxing all at once. He ran a hand over his face, eyebrows raised.

“God, Spock,” he began, eyes focused on the floor somewhere behind him. But soon he met his eyes again, and his gaze was no longer tight with contained anger. “You’re right. Of course you’re right. I just…” he made a motion between them with his hand, as he took another deep breath. “Humans aren’t really used to having to explain this stuff. I’m not saying that as an excuse. I know you’re even less used to having to _understand_ this stuff, I just forget sometimes. We all do. But I’ll…I’ll try harder in the future. Sorry. And—”

He sighed, again, eyes moving away. “Shouldn’t’ve called you ‘pointy,’ ” he said, his enunciation less than exact, “Shouldn’t be blaming this all on you. If anyone was acting childish in that meeting, it was me, and you went and took the brunt of it. I’m just…I’m just stressed out and I never realize it until I’m taking it out on everyone around me. ‘S probably…” his voice grew tight. Spock’s eyebrows drew together similarly. “Probably good I got this demotion. I don’t know if…if I’m really prime captain material yet.”

“Captain—” Spock began, momentarily losing the sense of mind to replace the now incorrect form of address in his illogical haste to contradict Kirk’s statement. However, this impulse was interrupted.

“Commander Spock?” asked a man who had approached them. Spock nodded in acknowledgement of what he now recognized as a greeting, and not an illogical inquiry about his identity. He was, after all, the only Vulcan of his position in Starfleet. “Frank Abbot, USS Bradbury. Guess you’re with me.”

“Yes…Captain,” Spock said. The discomfort he felt at ascribing the title—not simply Captain, but _his_ Captain—to anyone other to Kirk was noted, if not understood.

The Captain nodded formally and left them to their conversation, one which, offered the temporal distance from his emotional outbursts, Spock was not entirely eager to continue. Thankfully, Kirk was quick to shift the subject.

“I’m gonna miss you, Spock. You know that?”

Spock did not ‘know that,’ but found himself in agreement with the statement. He allowed himself a moment to observe the smile forming on Kirk’s face before responding, admittedly more from emotion than logic, in a softer tone lest it be overheard and misinterpreted;

“I look forward to your swift reinstatement as the rightful captain of the USS Enterprise.”

The smile slipped off Kirk’s face, and for a moment Spock thought he may have yet again accidentally offended, but the expression soon returned, Kirk’s smile… _softer_ , in a way Spock could not fully explain. His eyes seemed to be watering somewhat.

“Take care of yourself out there,” he said, matching the quiet volume, before nodding and striding off to take his place in the conference room.

Spock’s similar wishes thus remained unspoken.


End file.
